thoughts and adventures of a girl with a song.

gravitate (v).

It was made of the same stuff that makes the moon dance with the tide. Put us in the same vicinity and it's inevitable that we will be standing side by side in very little time, if not in the same conversation, at least in glances, acknowledging the range of little distance between us. Put us in the same city and when I go to do my laundry you will appear to collect your socks and towels; if I cross the world I bet you will be drinking an espresso in Italy, writing away when I come to rest from all the walking, it's just how it happens, it's just the pull; it must be the symmetry of your veins to mine.